Come With Me Now
by aphtrashbin
Summary: Old version of Devil's Game, warnings for Character death, graphic violence, USUK.
1. Introduction

It was common knowledge that there is no personification for the United States of America. It had been common since the day Arthur had been unable to find a child to mark as his territory.

It had been common since the rag-tag group of colonies had rebelled against him.

It had been common through war and suffering, leaving him wondering why, _why _did England get denied the child he had rightfully deserved.

And Arthur knew one other thing that was common.

Monsters. Monsters that were unlike the beasts of his medieval days, unlike his magical friends- these were beasts that were killers, coldhearted and bloodthirsty.

They appeared annually, there never seeming to be a way to kill them, and Arthur had grown tired of holding meetings with the other nations to discuss them.

Except, this time, during this particular meeting, Arthur was told they were going to have someone new at the meeting. Someone who was neither an ambassador, nor a nation. It was the one human who was caught on tape killing not just one of them, but many of them. The advent of the camera phone had led to this man being captured on tape all the time.

And he was coming to the UN meeting today, in fact.


	2. Act One

Life was rather complicated now, it seemed. And…kinda fucked up, too. It wasn't too bad, all things considered. Especially since he was supposed to just…stop existing. He supposed that his current predicament wasn't that bad, considering that. However…. fighting off monsters for what very well _could_ be eternity wasn't that great an outcome, either. Especially considering his only other option was to _become_ a monster himself, and allow his sacrifice to mean nothing.

And _that_ outcome was summarized succinctly in the words, "Nah, bruh."

Nearly 400 years ago now, Alfred had made a crucial decision. It had been the year 2020, when the world had gone to _absolute shit_, and that was when he decided he would sacrifice himself to save everyone else, and let them- his fellow nations- live on in a parallel universe where he had never existed as a nation, have never been found, yada, yada, yada. His land was still there, but Alfred F. Jones had never been there to begin with. He was gone from the hearts and minds of those he had held dear in life.

Well, that wouldn't have been so bad… had it actually _meant_ what he _thought_ it meant. It did not mean that his Arthur was saved from the fate they had carved out for themselves. No. It meant, rather, that a new, parallel Arthur was made, one who had never known Alfred. Unfortunately…the Arthur that Alfred had loved was…well. He wasn't very….

Well.

It was hard to come to terms with even now what the people he had held dear had become.

If they had been human like before, they were nothing even close to human anymore. Maybe they sometimes looked like it, but they were…monsters now. And nothing more than that. They knew only sorrow, and the happiness they had once known were only flickers of light in the blackness of their despair. Alfred was tasked with keeping them in line, so that the new universe could flourish. It was hard, since they couldn't die, not permanently. Permadeath was too much of a luxury item, it seemed. And so Alfred had fought hard, for 400 years.

And he was fucking tired. TIRED. He was tired of all this fucking BULLSHIT.

He wanted to have disappeared when he had made that deal, but to no avail. He was trapped. Trapped in this awful existence, knowing that one day his strength would fail him and he would _become_ one of them. Life was less _complicated _and more _completely and utterly fucked UP!_

Oh well, he had to keep on trudging. He was no quitter! …Or, he tried to convince himself that he wasn't.

XXXXX

The worst part was that Alfred had to keep an eye on current events at least _somewhat, _and he had caught the eye of a senior officer at the UN. And here he was. Not happy, but in the midst of current events- The United Nations.

David, the man who was taking Alfred under his wing was showing him the nations, and Alfred was just…. tired. He knew all these faces. They were as familiar to him as the palm of his hand. But he couldn't do anything but pretend he was simply human.

"Thank you so much for coming out here today, Mr. Jones." David said lightly. "It is truly an honor that you, the man that we know has been killing these beasts successfully, is with us today."

"None of these….others, they know me?" Alfred asked, quiet. "Have you shown them the tapes?"

David sighed. "We have collected the tapes, I suppose they could have watched them, but I am only the American ambassador. We have no American nation." And Alfred's gut clenched in his chest before he nodded.

"Why not?" He asked, too curious for his own good, clearly.

The human side-eyed him, but only shrugged. "No one can say. Not a one has appeared."

He saw Canada and France chatting lightly as they went off, and Alfred caught his once-brother's eyes, before turning away, trying to go back to talking to David. But, David noticed where his eyes had strayed.

"Hey! You look an awful like that one!" He pushed on Alfred lightly, and Alfred frowned.

"Maybe…" He mumbled- maybe once in a different life, when things were different and he had known of Alfred. He started to head into the room, not noticing that Matthew was looking at him oddly, before his not twin brushed it off.

Alfred sat at the human meeting, standing as they introduced him as the famed monster-hunter, his eyes dull, while the nations discussed things in the other room, just across the hallway. Alfred had a crazy idea, and tried to dissuade himself, but once it was in his head, he couldn't. During break, he went to the bathroom, and went to the wrong room. The one across the hall.

The one he didn't belong in any longer. He saw that no one was inside here at first, and so relaxed. This place held so many of his memories. He sighed, and looked up to the mantle, and saw even his image in the picture among the creators of the UN was…gone. He closed his eyes, and sighed.

However, the quiet was not to last, as he heard footsteps, and tensed.

Then he heard awfully familiar voices. "Canada, who do you think the man you saw was?" It was undoubtedly England.

Well, shit. They were talking about him.

"I don't know." Canada murmured, thoughtful. "He looked almost exactly like me. I can't help but think I know him."

Alfred dropped to the ground, and tried to escape without having to show off. They stopped talking, quite abruptly.

"Did you hear that?" England said, suspicious.

But… He swore that he hadn't made any noise…! And that was when the ringing in his ears started. Oh, oh fuck! Not this! Who was it?! What one of them was it?!

Alfred launched himself out to their line of sight. "Get out of here!" He screamed as he got himself up from his hiding place. "You know they're coming!" He turned around, and threw his coat off, grabbing his guns, and trying to make sure they couldn't see his face.

He was thrown back by the monster coming for him.

He heard Canada and England jump back, but Alfred was thankful he had taken the brunt of the blow for them. "Get out!" He said, furiously. "Do want to die?!"

"We're going for help, sir!" Canada said, immediately.

"Don't do anything stupid." England said, belated, but then quickly followed by, "Not even gods could stop those things."

"Ohh?" Alfred asked, quietly, smiling a bit. "Then, I suppose we haven't _met_. I don't think I'd call myself a god, though…. more like…a devil." He took his safety off. "Get out. I can handle it. Evacuate the building."

Another blast came, and he avoided it swiftly, while Canada and England were thrown out the door. Alfred used his abilities to force it shut after them, and locked it quickly.

"Which one of ya is it!" He laughed, waiting for them to reveal themselves. Out of the darkness, he saw a shadow moving silently, and prepared himself, before he realized that it was simply Gilbert. "Gil! What are you doing?" He asked, confused.

"Don't hurt her…" He asked, mopey, and that's when Alfred realized why he was here.

He barely managed to move out of the way in time for the monster that used to be Elizaveta jumped out, her breasts hanging out, in her black and gold bodysuit, with her 4 eyed mask watching him, her hair blowing in the wind of the broken window she had jumped through. She crawled on all fours, jumping towards him with efficiency.

He started shooting at her, but Gilbert got in front of him. "D-Don't hurt her!" He begged, and Alfred pushed him to the side, shooting at her full force. She jumped, and landed on Gilbert, taking off her mask to reveal her maddened face, her true face that was pure and yet completely and utterly corrupted, and she vomited that hallucinogenic into his mouth once more, making him pass out and experience what she wanted him to.

"What the fuck, Liz! Why do you _always_ do that to him?" He drawled, knowing she couldn't hear him anymore than he could understand her. Alfred then aimed his gun, and shot her up, firing into her unsuspecting form. She shrieked, and glared at Alfred with her maddened green eyes.

But, the woman bled, and he saw the red dripping from her neck. Her face dissolved into sorrow, and her form melted into her skeleton, before fading into ashes.

He looked around them, and sighed. "Well…A+ Alfred. You're not even part of the UN anymore and you managed to force them to refurbish the place so that doesn't look like it belongs to old men! Good job!" He went over to Gilbert, and picked up the somewhat zombie, and threw him over his shoulder. Even though he was here for the meeting, he still wasn't in the mood to get caught…he laughed as he looked out the window, and wondered if he could recover from the 100 story fall he was going to make.

Oh, whatever at this point. Did it really matter? He seemed pretty impermeable to death at this point, so…

"Yippee-ki-yay motherfucker!" He whispered as he leaped out into the night.

He jumped off, with Gilbert in his arms, just as Canada walked back into the room, staring open-mouthed at the carnage while a stranger that looked incredibly like him jumped _out the fucking window _with **Prussia**, of all people for reasons that the nation couldn't explain.

Well, this had not been an ordinary day.

Once he had his _bones_ back in order, Alfred knew he had to head out, and _fast_. Time to disappear, right? So, he stuck Gil in the trash, and quickly started on his path out. He figured he'd grab a coffee, it was getting late after all, and he had a long night ahead of him…

But then he heard Gilbert start complaining about Alfred's brutish methods, (_what, with leaving the trash where it belonged?),_ and so went back to get him before he had taken 10 steps forward. Somehow that felt like a metaphor his life, and reminded him of that bad cooking England had once made for him looked like on the way out, be it up or down. That last thought was a little more than he wanted to think of, but it made him slightly nostalgic. Goddammit, he was going soft! No way was he actually…actually missing Arthur's terrible cooking…

Gilbert kicked his shin from where he was being held up by Alfred, and Alfred grimaced. "Oi!" He shook him, frowning. "I'm going to get fucking coffee…" He set Gilbert down on the ground, making the zombie grumble about the disgrace, but he simply folded his arms.

Alfred rubbed his temples, and went into the coffee shop, smiling at the barista kindly. He walked up to the counter, before ordering a black coffee, with a couple espresso shots inside.

"Why, hello again, stranger…" Oh shit. It was undoubtedly England, from the snooty voice that was trying _way too hard _to be sultry. Alfred sighed, before turning around with a smile. England was looking him over, rather approvingly, probably of his body…dirty old man. "I see you got out of there just fine, it seems that Matthew was over exaggerating."

Alfred wanted to tell him so badly to just _fuck off; _he didn't have enough fucking coffee for this…not right now. Please, and thank you.

Instead he nodded. "Yeah! Well, actually, I was brought in by the UN to talk about my role! I've been hunting them for a few years, and had some knowledge of how they work…"

England looked interested. "Is that why you were in there?" And Alfred nodded, sighing as he saw Gilbert walk to the door, trying to discretely get him to back off. "Interesting. So you're the hunter of those beasts. Who was that one, if I might ask."

"That one is the one I call…Liz." He said, not wanting to give her away or give _himself_ away.

"Liz?" England's face screwed up in confusion, his brow furrowing. "That's a very normal name for such a creature."

"Yeah!" He nodded, again, and coughed. "Well, uh." He saw Gilbert walking in. "Well! It was my guess she was human once! She takes on a human form once you kill her!" Gilbert's eyes widened, before they narrowed a scowl, and the zombie raised a single eyebrow. "Well, uh." He coughed again. "I should go."

"You didn't order anything, though…" Arthur pointed out, and Alfred laughed, nervous and not handling it well once he was actually in the vicinity of Arthur Kirkland, the real one, England.

"I'm actually an idiot! I already had my caffeine designated for the day!" He said, and started walking toward the exit, to where Gilbert was shambling to the door again.

"W-Wait!" Arthur said, suddenly. "H-here's my number. Not that you should call it for personal reasons, but, if you know something about those monsters that you wish to only tell…. non-humans, you shouldn't be a stranger. Go ahead and tell us what you know."

"Ah." Alfred nodded, taking it even though he knew the number by heart. "Thanks, but, uh, I should get going."

Arthur nodded. "Good luck." England told him, stiffly.

"Thanks!" Alfred said, loudly as he walked away, before he muttered, "I don't need luck at this point."

Gilbert pat his back as he left with him.

Fuckin' shit man, this was too much.

XXXXX

Once they were long departed from the coffee shop where they had run into a real, genuine nation, Alfred sighed, sitting Gilbert down. "God dammit, Gil." He muttered. "That wasn't Arthur."

"It wasn't?" The albino asked, raising an eyebrow, before he snorted. "Were you _fraternizing_ with the official nations now?" Alfred shot him a look, and the zombie snickered. "God, you were, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah, I was invited to the UN to speak on the monsters." He said, sighing. "Humans do tend to notice me, and us." He muttered. "I mean, I am the one responsible for killing them…they kinda notice when I manage it."

Gilbert nodded, shrugging. "Meh. I think it's funny, was England flirting with you?" He said, waggling his eyebrows, and Alfred's face scrunched up.

"Dude." Alfred muttered, making a face like he had eaten something incredibly slimy. "I knew he was bad about sleeping with humans, but for God's sake. Does it have to be…so ironic?" Alfred sighed, and looked up at the sky while they walked away. "This isn't funny, fucker! You knew what I meant when I said I wanted to save the nations!"

Red eyes looked at him worriedly. "Al, you _really_ take too much responsibility on your shoulders…" He said, patting his back. "ANYWAY, loser, I'm in danger because my bro-not bro is here." He said, grinning. "Germany's in town, and so is my other me. While I generally would agree a meeting of TWO Prussia' would simply be too awesome to handle, my appearance with our Liz and our Lutz and our Roddy tend to paint me in a bad light. And unlike them, I still look like me!" His hand fell off, and he sighed. "Well, mostly."

Alfred snorted. "It wouldn't be too awesome to handle, it'd certainly be too much to handle, but _awesome_ isn't the word I'd use, unless you're using the word "Awesome" as in the phrase, awesomely terrible." The zombie threw his disconnected hand at Alfred, and the blonde had to laugh. "What! I'm just telling the truth."

Gilbert took his hand back, and held it with his other hand to his mouth, the disconnected hand flat against his cold lips. "I am simply shocked by this…reckless mutiny!" He leaned back, his one hand holding his dismembered hand against his forehead as though he was a fainting woman. "Goodness me!"

Alfred took his extending cane, and whacked Gilbert in the chest playfully, but accidentally knocking his head off its precarious place on his shoulders since he was already leaning back. "Whoopsie, shit, Gil." He grinned. "Gotta keep your head in the game!"

The zombie raised an eyebrow and grumbled at the awful reference, before he yelled. "Oi! Useless, useless limbs! Over here!" His body was fumbling, his hand still held in the other, and therefore his limbs were unable to grab him. "Ugh, Alfred, stitch me back up, will you?"

Alfred snorted, but agreed- Gilbert was his only friend, it sometimes felt like, in this new universe.

XXXXX

Once Alfred had _mostly_ stitched his Prussia back into one piece, the zombie sighed. "Ugh. What will you do now?" He asked, curious of the actions of the only true nation left from their universe.

The blonde sighed. "Honestly?" He looked to the sky, blue now, but his own eyes- though once blue- reflected the grey skies that had been his world when he had made the deal. The one that was gone now.

He still remembered what had happened, the deal he had made that day.

"_Are you certain of your choice, America?" The goddess like woman was asking him, her eyes that were black, the color of the vast universe, staring into his soul to judge his merit. _

_He looked to her, his blue eyes firm when he answered her, looking directly into her eyes without fear of whatever was to come._

"_I'm sure. There is simply nothing else to be done, at this point."_

_"You won't be able to come back to where you are now." She reminded, tapping one long clawed nail on her chin, her form shifting, oozing around him. "This would be where your world ends. You wouldn't even be known in the new one- your very __**existence**__ would cease to matter to the world. Not one of them could ever know that you, Alfred F. Jones, are America until after your end of the deal is held up."  
_

_Alfred grinned. "Well, I know it won't matter to them!" He nodded firmly. "But, even though I won't be important, this- this will be important. I will have done something to save them!"_

"_You understand the consequences, and you allow them to occur." She said, her voice a low purr, asking for final confirmation from him._

"_I don't mind." He nodded, looking to the sky. "I'm not afraid anymore, not of this. Anything would be a better fate than this. But I do- I understand the consequences, and I fully accept them."_

_The goddess smiled, her infinite eyes boring into his soul. "The deal is set- you will constantly fight off the ghouls of your past, and in return, I shall remake your world anew." She nodded, and kissed him on his forehead. "Good luck, Alfred F. Jones." She murmured. "I look forward to seeing the world your sacrifice is going to make."_

_Alfred nodded, taking a deep breath in. He took the toy soldier out of his pocket, and sighed as he rubbed at the damaged wood. "I honestly hope that Arthur will survive without me in his life. Idiot didn't know what to do without me before all this anyway…I can only imagine what that will be like if I don't exist the way I do now."_

_The goddess took a deep breath as well, putting her hands on his chest, closing her eyes as she sunk her hands into his chest, feeling his heart, his very soul as a nation. The world around him began to burn, and he heard her final warning. "If you cease to fight, if you give in to the ghouls of this burning world…you will become one of them yourself, and you will lead the world you sacrificed yourself…to ruin, young boy. Do well to avoid that end."_

_And then, Alfred had known no more._

Of course, he had woken up in Pre-Revolution America. He had left his home quickly, leaving behind the man he had been before. He wasn't America. His name was _Alfred, _and his only purpose was to hunt those "ghouls" she had specified that he had to fight.

He didn't understand what they were until they had come for him, searching him out for answers as much as Alfred searched them out to kill them.

He hadn't realized then, that the "ghouls" were his friends, family, loved ones…they were all still trapped in the hell that Alfred had tried to save them from.

Alfred had wept as he cradled Canada's body, the façade of the monster he had become falling away to show his brother, dying once again, even though he knew an entirely _new _Canada had been newly found by France, and Alfred had put the bullet through the monsters brain himself.

He screamed at the goddess he had made the deal with, for tricking him. This is not what he had wanted. He hadn't wanted them to still suffer like this. He had wanted them to live!

But his cries remained unanswered entirely.

Eventually, he had found the very few of his friends who knew him as he was- Gilbert, for one. Belgium also retained much of her sentience, though she was bound to attempt to kill humans all the same, whereas Gilbert was a little more free on that issue. Switzerland participated in keeping track of killing the Germanics and much of Europe. Japan was fully committed to killing his siblings and friends- despite how he still tried to kill Alfred as well.

Gilbert had simply told Alfred that their friends and loved ones did not suffer as they were, for the most part.

"_Well, when I was turned into a zombie, back in the other place." Gilbert sighed. "I was, well, mindless. Wanting to eat brains and all that stuff. I didn't know what I was doing until the second after my lil bro had put a bullet through my head. Now, I wake up here, and Lutz- my Lutz-" His voice had cracked. "He was like me, unknowing of what I was, who I was. Focused only on killing. Which is why…which is why I killed him, to release him of that…that fate." Gilbert had sobbed a bit. "But he's not free, he's not free Alfred. He cannot be freed anymore. He's stuck like that. Forever."_

"_Forever."_ Gilbert's word then had echoed in his mind, and it still did, honestly.

Alfred was stuck like this, until the moment his strength gave out and the new nations that he had sacrificed all this for- they would become his prey as well.

"I don't know Gil, I don't know." He sighed, and Gilbert nodded, getting up and walking away.

"I'll be around if you wanna talk bout it, Al!" He shouted back into the night, before he was gone.

And the zombie left him alone after that, the man obviously needing some time to think on his own.

XXXXX

Life was never that simple for Alfred F. Jones, though, it seemed. It never could be that easy, right?

Literally, no sooner after he went into the UN meeting, every ambassador there applauded him for having killed another monster.

Alfred felt sick to his stomach. They congratulated him for saving the many lives they could have lost, but they didn't know, _couldn't _know that Alfred himself had lost someone, once again.

It was torture, pure torture, knowing he had been fighting this long, and now he was planning alongside humans who had no idea that these monsters were possibly doomed to live forever, much like himself.

There was no escape, not for them, and more pressingly, not for the monsters, and not for himself.

Nations soon sought him out as well, smiling at him and inquiring why he did what he did.

Russia- his monster was a true behemoth, a giant nameless thing that would charge at you and kill you with blunt force or the tusks on his head. Russia now asked Alfred for the secret behind whatever trick he had in killing them, clearly desiring to be able to do the same.

China, his monster was a honest-to-god dragon, one who Alfred had been burned by more than once.

China and Russia and India all were talking about how they could pay off some of America's debt in return for having their monsters culled by America's hunter. It was dizzyingly familiar to when they were harassing Alfred in his time as well, saying that they needed his money, money that Alfred didn't have then.

His ambassadors looked interested in the prospect, but David took him out of there. "Alfred? Are you okay?" He asked as they finally were alone again, and the man wiped Alfred's sweaty brow.

"…Yeah, sorry." Alfred said, sick. "I'm not used to large crowds…."

The ambassador smiled. "That's fine, Alfred. Everyone is excited- you have been the only person who has ever been able to kill those things! We just…want your help."

Alfred nodded, smiling tiredly. "Yeah, I suppose…." He trailed off, and said he was going to go get a coffee.

"You know where the shop is, according to the British nation." David chuckled, and patted Alfred's back. "Go ahead, I'll tell them you've gone to the restroom.

He went down the elevator, only to pick someone up on the next floor down.

Shocked purple eyes looked at him. "It's you!" He said, gaping a bit.

Alfred grinned, nodding. "Yeah, it's me…sorry 'bout wrecking the place." He said, grinning a bit.

"Are…are you going to get something from the coffee shop?" Canada asked, smiling a bit, as he looked him over. "I, I'd like to talk to you, I mean…"

The man looked tiredly at Canada, his brother's face only slightly changed in the years of not having a brother for a personification- he was more confident, Alfred noted with a small smile. "Eh, what's the harm in it?" He asked rhetorically, chuckling. "The one with the massive eyebrows was hitting on me all last night, I'd just like to say I'd prefer your methods to his."

And Canada laughed, snorting as he thought of it. "England, you mean? Yeah, he apparently has a track record of doing that…"

Alfred shrugged, and the two left the elevator surprisingly in synch with each other.


	3. Act Two

"Now, whatever opinions you may form of me, and what precisely I am- you have to keep your mouth shut." Alfred said over a caramel macchiato.

Canada looked at him strangely, "Why? And why trust me with this information."

Alfred grinned. "Because, that has to do with how I know who you are already, Canada, or Matthew Williams." With the uttering of the human name as well as the nation name, Canada went pale before him.

"How…how do you know that?" Alfred hushed him. "You can't ask questions about _how _I might know it, but rather, what I do know. You can think whatever you want of me, but you cannot say who you think I really am."

His brother's purple eyes widened in understanding, his mouth going into a little 'oh', before he nodded. "Alright then. I won't say anything about…that." He confirmed.

Alfred grinned. "For ease, my name's Alfred- and you can totally call me that and not Jones or any other BS. But…just stick to Alfred."

"And you already know mine." Canada nodded, licking his lips nervously. "Feel free to call me Matthew, if you'd like."

But the older man shook his head, laughing a bit. "Nah, I can't- that'd get way to confusing, considering that there is a monster that I regularly kill named Matthew Williams."

Canada's eyes bulged. "…What?"

"Again, you cannot ask how I know that, just know that I do." He nodded, before starting again now that Canada was quiet. "A long time ago, before you were born, before this world was born, you _could_ say I was a nation." He nodded. "Now, you cannot ask which one, since telling you I am- well, _was _a nation is probs already pushing the line a bit."

"Why does it matter?" Canada asked him, looking puzzled.

Alfred laughed a bit. "Because, before this world was born, I made a deal with a Goddess." He sipped his drink. "I wanted my world to be saved from what it had become- you've seen those monsters, right? The entire world, from humans to nations, had been transformed into those _things_. I was one of the last sentient people on this earth, and I was studying Arthur's books on calling up immortal beings other than ourselves."

"You made a deal with a _Goddess?_" He was baffled, and Alfred hushed him.

"My deal was- a new world, where none of this had happened." He sighed. "And in return for her granting my wish, she told me that I would have to…well, in the simplest terms, cease to be as I was, hence why you cannot know who I am, and two, fight off the quote on quote "Ghouls" from my world."

Canada looked confused. "But you wanted to save your friends, the other nations, right…? But you said that they're…."

"They are in fact, the monsters." He agreed. "I was tasked with killing them in this new world, while y'all fuckers got off scotch free." Alfred sighed, rubbing his temples. "I woke up in this world in the 1600's, and I've been fighting them ever since, with no end in sight- and the kicker is…If I don't fight, if I give up and stop, I'll simply become a monster myself."

His brother now just looked horrified. "That was a shit deal, Alfred." He said flatly, and Alfred laughed in agreement.

"Fuck yes it was, but I didn't know she was double crossing my sorry ass." Alfred acknowledged, downing the rest of his drink.

The other blonde before him sat there in silence. "I don't even know what to say to that. And you're the only one who can kill them, right?" Alfred nodded coolly. "So, you have to keep killing them, and if you give in, you become one yourself? But once you're a monster, there's no hope for this world because you're the only one who has the power to kill them?" He sat in silence again.

"Fucked up, right?" Alfred agreed, looking into his empty cup.

Canada simply laughed a bit, still in shock. "So, that man was Prussia, but also…not?"

And Alfred laughed again. "Yeah, it's totally fucked up, isn't it?"

"Ugh, Alfred… how'd you get into such a bad situation?"

His laughter stopped, and he turned nostalgic. "Yanno- Mattie used to ask me that all the time…"

XXXXX

The two had left the coffee shop to rejoin the meeting, Canada still deep in thought, but Alfred not particularly minding that.

However, he had a very unfortunate new companion to his side, one who was far harder to dissuade than his kinda-sorta brother.

England was on his case, and he wasn't going to stop until he knew precisely how Alfred F. Jones ticked.

"Will you leave me alone?" He asked, quietly sipping from his coffee as he stared at England with suspicious blue eyes.

Familiar green eyes bored into his own, and yet they stared at him without a hint of recognition in their own.

"No." England said, stubbornly. "You're hiding something, Jones."

Alfred grinned sardonically. "That's precisely why you _should_ leave me alone, dontcha get that, England?" And his giant eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, and he sat down beside Alfred without being invited to do so, making Alfred's grin fade into a scowl. "You're really something, England." He muttered, crossing his arms.

"I don't think we've ever formally been introduced- how would _you_ know I'm _England._"

"The other one with the lil' hair squiggly thing. With the purple eyes." Alfred continued, before he snapped his fingers in fake recognition. "Canada- he told me. I was complaining about your uh…methods." He said, snorting. "But yeah, eyebrows, you're stubborn alright."

The official nation's face turned a hot shade of red. "That is not what I meant!" He shouted, before attempting to compose himself again. "What I _meant_, was that you- Alfred- are _rather_ familiar with my name." He growled.

"Is that a problem?" He asked, blinking. "Look, I already said the reason you should leave me alone is because I am in fact, hiding really important things." Alfred's voice went softer. "Things that _need_ to stay secret to protect y'all."

England went flush, licking his lips nervously at the sudden change of tone, from combative to slightly comforting. "Well, I, it's still, nothing that a human should be concerning themselves with- unless, of course." He went thoughtful. "You _aren't_ human, Alfred F. Jones?" He looked at him, pregnant with thought.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Lay off, will you? I'm trying to protect you, Arthur- _please_, please let me?" His blue eyes looked at England's, his exhaustion making him slip up and say the human name for the one he had once loved- and honestly, still did.

"I…" England gulped, his green eyes widening as suddenly, Alfred was leaning forward, pulling Arthur into a kiss, his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe this was his Arthur- maybe Arthur had snapped out of his madness- like Emma did, and Gilbert did…

"Shh…don't say my name, Arthur…you should know the rules of this place... I did this for you, after all…" He said, before their lips met and it felt _right_, like Alfred had been completed again, the hole in his heart aching to be filled with Arthur Kirkland in his life.

His hallucination was snapped suddenly when Arthur- no, England, this was _England_, not his Arthur, but England, the one who belonged in this new world- pushed him away suddenly, his face flushed with something other than bashfulness.

He was clearly aroused by Alfred.

"Jones, how do you know that name?" He asked, blinking in confusion. "Why did you- why did you _kiss _me?" England looked to him, desperate for answers. "Alfred…"

The man stared at England, his blue eyes closing in sorrow. "I-I…I'm sorry, I…I stepped outside of my boundaries." He stepped away. "My bad, England…you remind me of someone…someone else. I didn't know that was your name too." He tried to explain, biting his lip in his anxiety.

"Who were they?" He asked, still breathless, looking to Alfred with wide eyes, touching his lips softly.

"That doesn't matter." Alfred said, gentle. "They're gone now… I…I should go."

England gripped his hand suddenly. "Alfred!" He said, baffled by the hot-and-cold behavior. "Please, make me understand." He took a step towards Alfred, and Alfred suddenly jumped away, crossing his arms defensively, before he looked around, desperate for an exit, and left in his sudden terror.

Leaving England at an utter loss for words.

XXXXX

"I don't get it!" England shouted, tipsy and showing it boldly at the bar, drinking with France. "Why in the bloody hell would he kiss me and then run!"

"Perhaps our mysterious hunter has a few skeletons in the closet, mon ami." France comforted him quietly, patting his back reassuringly. "We already knew that, though!" He laughed. "Hunting monsters he has admitted are _humans_, and being the only one with the power to kill them…that would make anyone slightly mad."

England pouted. "He's a good kisser…he knew my name, and he knew exactly how I enjoyed being kissed…it's like he _knew_ me…France…he knew my _name_, as in, my _human_ name…"

France looked at him quietly, interested. "He called you by that silly name you picked out for yourself when we were kids?" His fellow nation teased him, but Arthur knew well enough it was a veil for curiosity. "You know- Matthew was _convinced_ that he saw Prussia with him, and…there have been reports of more human looking monsters. Like the one native to your land."

England scowled. "The one with a penchant for trying to kill me?" He asked, still nursing some scotch.

"Yes- I always thought it looked _suspiciously_ like yourself- it even had literal blades to match your silver tongue!" He smirked a bit, before becoming serious. "Matthew had a talk with him- I say we grill Mr. Jones tomorrow for information." The Frenchmen smiled. "And perhaps we will get our answers."

XXXXX

It wasn't that easy though. Alfred avoided him like the bloody fucking bubonic plague, damn him!

He could barely get the man alone, and occasionally he would simply be gone from the country, showing up in videos from _China _or another place halfway around the world.

But then he was back, and humans barraged the man, who only seemed more tired every time that he returned. It was like he was fixated on England just as much as England was fixed on the hunter.

But there was no meeting, no connection between the two of them more than fleeting glances and England wondering what, precisely, he meant to Alfred F. Jones, be it in this life or in another.

He simply had to know- Canada's warning to step off him, he was stressed be damned.

XXXXX

England was more than stubborn- he was downright _insufferable_.

"Ugh, why aren't you telling me anything! Are you trying to be an ass?" He asked, shouting in his own defense, England looked positively enraged.

Alfred was prepared to leave him at this point, frustrated to all hell with this nosy, unbearable version of the man he loved. He fisted his hands. "I'm fine! I'm fine if you think I'm an asshole- if you hate me!" He shouted, bursting. "Just…Just leave me alone, Kirkland!"

"I have no intentions of that." He muttered, watching Alfred carefully. "I have my suspicions about who you are, and you are going to confirm them, whether it be now or later." He growled, getting closer to Alfred. "But first…how do you know so much about the nations?" He put his hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. "_Why did you call my by my human name and kiss me?"_ He asked Alfred in the nation's language, which Alfred still unfortunately understand.

That was when the ringing started.

"Shit…" Alfred muttered, and England sneered.

"What is it, _boy?_" He muttered, before he heard it too. "You can hear them…?" England asked, suddenly confused by the new, undoubtedly conflicting information. "I thought…only nations…"

Alfred shoved him off of himself, trying to get England, the real one, out of here. He knew _very _well which one this ringing belonged to. "Run! Run if you know what's good for you!" He said, taking out his gun, prepared to protect the nation who he had sacrificed everything for.

"What are you even talking about? I'm not going anywhere!" England shouted at him, confused from lack of information, frustrated by the fact Alfred wasn't willing to share it, and annoyed that he hadn't gotten any sort of physical reciprocation from him, and that's when they were interrupted.

"My, my…. you've been getting into a lot of trouble recently, have you not?" A very, unfortunately, familiar voice was heard by both of them.

Of fucking course he'd come here, Alfred thought, looking down to avoid seeing his face. He had become good at taunting Alfred with what he couldn't have.

"What the fuck?" England shouted, "Who's there!?" He looked around wildly, before Alfred told him to shut up.

"England, I swear, you need to _run._" He hissed. "This one doesn't play nicely with others." The thought of, '_particularly the ones who like to try and get me to fuck them_' remained unsaid, but Alfred thought of it, knowing how….possessive this one still was, even though it had been 400 years since they had come here. 

A haughty laugh came through the night, and Alfred peered through the darkness, before he grabbed England, throwing them to the side as a giant blade went right for where the British Nation's head had been just moments before, meanwhile, his ex-love came out of the darkness, the blade sinking back into his hand, melding perfectly back into his skin, and he smiled madly.

"Oh, my dear boy, why would I ever need to run?" Arthur Kirkland smiled, his expression and demeanor oily, before reaching out his hand, which transformed into a metal blade, and then into multiple blades.

England's mouth dropped open as he stared his mad self down, before turning to Alfred with confusion, and disbelief, unable to even form words (though he clearly tried.)

Alfred took out his guns, not waiting for him to charge, or for England to speak. He ran forward, growling in frustration. "Run!" He shouted, but he was beat to it when he saw Emma come seemingly out of nowhere, the ghostly witch of a woman grabbing the struggling England and forcing him away from this battle against Arthur Kirkland, the monster whose form allowed him to make any part of his skin into a deadly blade which was sharper than most kitchen knives.

"Arthur! Stop, will you!" He shouted. "I didn't even _sleep_ with him!" Alfred was pacing around him, keeping on the move so that Arthur's eyes would stay on him and not stray to where Emma was taking England.

"Not good enough love." Arthur said, unhinged as he smiled, one of his bladed fingers tracing his chin, making the monster bleed black. "You know I despise it when people lay their dirty hands on you…the fact it was my… _imposter_ makes very little of a difference, and in less favorable terms for him."

Alfred sighed. "Arthur, you know it's not him that's the imposter, right?" He said, tired of arguing with this one monster that Alfred could never kill. Not once in his 400 years of hunting them.

"Alfred! I demand an explanation!" England shouted at him from where Emma was holding him down.

"Emma! Get him _out of here!_" Alfred screamed at her, sparking the ghostly woman into action, disappearing with England in her icy grip.

Arthur tsked at him, clearly disappointed at the loss of the man he had been _so _looking forward to killing. "Now, really love, why'd you have to go and do _that_?"

The only remaining nation from their timeline glared at Arthur. "You know why, Arthur." He hissed. "They're not the ones I wanted to save, you know that, but they're here, and now they're my responsibility. I reckon you know how this ends for the two of us if you stay here."

"I shan't, don't worry yourself about that." Arthur said, his smile practically oozing off oily charm and false happiness. "I'll be off, hunting where that damned woman has taken my imposter. Surely, she knows that we must kill them in order for us to rule this earth again?"

Alfred rubbed his temples. "Get lost, Arthur." He said, tired. "Please, I don't wanna hear you right now."

Arthur smiled at him darkly, desiring him still, before he vanished into the shadows.

"You let him go- alive?" France's familiar voice came from behind him, and Alfred groaned. "Really, I don't get any breaks, do I?" He asked the uncaring goddess, and turned to face the other nations- Russia, China, and France were all there, frowning intensely at his choice.

"I did." He said, firmly. "England's safe, jus' so you guys know. Emma wouldn't lay a finger on him as long as he did the same for her."

"Unhand me! Woman!" England's voice was coming out from a hallway, and Alfred snickered.

"Not that he could if he wanted to- Emma, it's fine, Artie's gone, probably."

The woman floated out of her hiding place, and released England, who shivered at the feeling of cold fingers passing through his skin.

"Alfred, please…end me, will you?" She asked, her soft eyes staring into his blue ones in need. "It hurts…to be so close…" She gestured to the building covertly, the modern nations staring at the ghost, and Alfred nodded, taking a knife through her form, and dispersing her into the air once more- but only after they had seen the blonde woman she had once been.

England, France, Russia and China were all staring at the space where she had been, and Alfred sighed. "I'm going to my room- and I'm drinking. A lot. Stay away from me- okay?" He gritted out, and started to walk away, and he could feel England's gaze on him, more intensely than the others.

However, he wasn't bothered by them, instead he was allowed to go back to his hotel room, and guzzle down all kinds of alcohol he had available to him.


	4. Act Three

"Rise and shine, asshole." A familiar, comfortingly brash voice woke him up the next morning.

"Gil…" Alfred groaned, extremely hung-over, and opened his eyes to see grinning red ones.

"Nice to see you too!" He laughed. "You certainly drank yourself into a coma, but then again, I don't think you can die just as much as I could!" He laughed, drinking a bit until his hand fell off, making Gilbert sigh. "Ugh." He complained, taking out his thread and stitching up his skin. "I cannot fucking believe that I keep falling apart."

He snorted, amused by Gilbert's show for him. "You can't get drunk anymore, Gil." Alfred reminded, sitting up quietly, rubbing his temples.

"I know that." The albino zombie snapped. "I heard you killed Emma- why?" He asked, blinking quietly. "You've never agreed to do it before- 'cause, you know once the sentient ones die, they don't come back sentient anymore." Gilbert's red eyes stared into blue ones expectantly. "So, why?"

Alfred sighed. "I dunno…I just…It felt like it was time. They've been coming faster recently…but now they've just…stopped. I dunno if they're all dead, except for you and Arthur…but…" He bit his lip. "It feels like it was time."

"It felt right... huh?" He asked, thoughtful, and looked to Alfred for further explanation, but didn't get any.

"Yeah." The hunter from the last world sighed. "Yeah, it did…"

XXXXX

Once Alfred had gotten his headache and nausea under control and into a zone of relative comfort, he got up and got dressed, heading out into the streets, walking with Gilbert, who was tied with a new type of threat that Gilbert hoped would hold him together than all the other kinds that they had tried over the years.

They were talking quietly, and enjoying each other's company. "So, it's really just me and ol' Artie now, right?" He asked, sighing. "Damn. It's a good thing- he can really only do so much damage by himself after all, but it's still…pretty lonely, yanno? Even Emma's gone, and I didn't find her a good gal to hang around after all that's happened with us and the new world."

Alfred gave a guffaw. "That's hardly saying anything, Gilbert. You're a fucking _zombie_, it's no wonder you have trouble making new friends."

"To be honest?" Gilbert looked at him, quiet, seeming vaguely off. "I wish I wasn't sentient too, Alfred." He revealed. "But if I wasn't- where'd that leave you? You're already alone…I can't imagine what that'd be like, without another ear to yak on about what's gone wrong with your desire to change fate."

And that hurt Alfred, more than any punch or physical wound could hurt him now. It hurt because Gilbert was right- if Gilbert wasn't still here, he'd have given into the Goddess' cruel fate for him years ago.

"Gilbert!" He heard an unfortunately familiar voice from behind them, and Gilbert tensed beside him. "There you are!"

Alfred and Gilbert turned around to face Germany- the new Ludwig.

"Ah…Germany." Alfred said, sheepish.

Gilbert was smiling though, and he waved. "Yo, Lutz!" He said, pleasant, making Alfred gape at him, not quite understanding what was even going on.

"Ah…" Germany blinked suddenly. "You're Alfred, right? The American hunter?" He said, focused on him, before he turned to Gilbert, and stared. "You're not my brother." He said, sharply, his blue eyes widening as Gilbert smiled sadly.

"Yeah, I know." He said, gentle. "It's kay though…it's been so long since I've seen mine not wanting to kill me!" He joked, and Alfred stared at him, unable to comprehend what Gilbert was giving away.

"Prussia!" He spluttered! This Germany- he can't know about-!"

"Alfred, it feels right." He said, closing his eyes. "I'm just glad I finally meet you, Germany. In this world- and with you not trying to kill us."

"Gilbert!" He snapped. "Stop! Please!" Alfred was begging him.

"Why?" He asked, voice soft, Germany staring at the evidence in front of him, and Gilbert walking over to him, but Germany simply pushed him out of the way, looking at Alfred with calculating eyes.

"You look like Canada, you speak English, and understand the common tongue of nations." He recited the facts he knew. "And I figure if you understand it, than you can speak it as well, meaning you must be a nation. This man, who looks like my brother, you have called Prussia, and yet you call me _this _Germany, meaning there is another Germany, likely one to match this Prussia. You're from an alternate world."

Alfred stared at him, helpless, his mouth dropping open, his lips moving slowly, trying to tell him not to _say it, don't say his name_.

"There is a nation in our world with no personification." Germany was concluding though. And Gilbert was staring at him as well, Alfred's vision narrowing to focus on Germany and Germany alone.

"All of this must mean…" And Germany's eyes opened suddenly, looking at him in stark confusion. "You are…." Alfred's gun was out as he started to mouth the cursed name, anger and rage and hurt all fueling him as he took the safety off his weapon, everything else seeming so far away.

They weren't allowed to utter the name! Alfred wasn't that any longer! _He couldn't be their America, or all of this was for naught._

"Stop! Alfred!" That voice was so far away; so far away that Alfred could barely hear it even as he pulled the trigger and the silence that had followed was absolutely deafening, damning him even without him realizing what had happened.

He had fired the shot to prevent Germany from uttering his name aloud, the cursed name that he had been banished from the world for having.

However, he realized that it wasn't red blood that was dripping onto the ground, and that it wasn't Ludwig in front of his gun any longer.

He comprehended who was standing in front of his line of fire just as the man spoke. "We had a good run, didn't we Al?" Gilbert said, coughing up his blackened blood. He winced. "Ah…that one…was through the brain, wasn't it…?" He asked, but already knew the answer. Alfred stared, gaping at his one friend in this whole world. "We…we did, right?" Gilbert wheezed. "It'll be fine…right? I mean…it was worth it…Life, life was worth it." He laughed, crying his black blood, the rotted, curdled part of him was dripping on the concrete in place of Ludwig's red blood, fresh and untainted. "It was worth it…"

Alfred watched as Gilbert collapsed, and he gripped his hand tightly. "Dammit Gilbert! Why did you stop me!" He shouted, and the zombie looked at him quietly.

"Because… it felt right, Al…That Germany, that Ludwig…he doesn't know this suffering…he doesn't. He won't ever need to." And he smiled. "I…. wasn't able to protect my lil' brother… so I…wanted to protect this one…. one… last… t…ime…." He breathed out as he died, his dead flesh melting away the moment after he closed his eyes to reveal what he had looked like in his lifetime, and his form faded from Alfred's sight.

And Alfred screamed at the Goddess, damning her for doing this to him, railing at her cruelty and this fate, this world. How dare she do this! He had sacrificed everything so that they wouldn't have to suffer as they had in the other world, and yet they continued to suffer, and die and suffer and die and kill!

He had sacrificed everything for them, for them to be able to live again, free of that world, and now they were unable to be free from that suffering.

He stared owlishly at Ludwig, the Ludwig who was _not _his Ludwig. The new Germany- Free from suffering and pain who all of them had encountered in the other world, like Alfred had felt, Gilbert had felt, and Ludwig and Arthur and Francis and Yao and Ivan and Kiku and Lovino and Feliciano and Antonio and and and and and and-

Alfred's mind had finally cracked. He only realized it after the fact, laughing hysterically as his mind just kept going.

And and and and and and and and-

"All I have to do…. is give up, right?" He asked out loud, reveling in the fact that there was power in this. _Gilbert had said it himself._ He wouldn't **suffer** anymore. He wouldn't have to be **alone** anymore.

He saw Arthur from the corner of his eye- his Arthur, with the blades for hands, he saw him slice Germany's throat, the jugular sending out a huge wave of blood as he collapsed altogether. And Arthur smiled at him, his new companion in beastly form, before Alfred let himself go, and allowed himself to feel no more, his body and mind swallowed up whole in the darkness.

_All he had ever needed to do was give up._

The animal that he had turned himself into howled into the night.


	5. Act Four

"Fuck!" England shouted. "Where is Jones!" He yelled at France, still shooting at the beasts in front of him.

France glared at him, before speaking in the common tongue. "You know as well as I do that I never bothered with your poor excuse of a language, England." He growled, frustrated just as much as England was with the sudden lack of Jones, the mysterious monster hunter.

The Frenchman met his sword with the blades of Arthur's monstrous counterpart. "Fuck!" Francis gasped in pain as the blades jumped out from the main form, and stabbed him from all sides, and England pushed him to the side to take on both the giant wolf that had emerged from nowhere because his doppelganger with the crazy blades for body parts were now fighting together, the wolf not really thinking to attack the fellow monster beside him.

"Alfred!" He shouted. The nation realized he had gone too far, had pushed him too much when Canada had already warned him that the man seemed to be on the verge of total collapse, and that there world was simply doomed when he finally did collapse. "Where are you?! I need _you_!"

There was no answer, but for the wolf's sharp blue eyes boring into his soul judgmentally.

He didn't really want to imagine why those blue were so familiar to him- he didn't even want to address that thought.

If that thing was Alfred, they were already doomed.

XXXXX

"_Alfred! You simply cannot be independent, I won't allow it!" England's voice had been harsh, and it had been the only time that he had bothered to look at the boy this whole time. That was all he saw Alfred as, right? As a child- as thing to be taken, to be owned and put on a pretty little shelf to show on display, he was to be seen and not heard._

_Alfred's teeth were set on edge, and his hands were fisted. "I wish I had never picked you over France, you fucking bastard!" He had said, and stormed off, only to be caught by England, who was sure to punish him for his impertinence, but when his enraged blue eyes met Arthur's, he only saw pain. _

_He flicked off the old man in a moment of rash anger, refusing to meet his eyes as Arthur fumbled for coherent words. _

_However, he heard Arthur's cough, and he turned around to face him, feeling how his blue eyes were hardened in their anger and on the edge of tears. _

"**Alfred! I need you!"** _The words weren't in synch with Arthur's mouth in this memory. Was this a memory? He hadn't thought it was until it became apparent to him that this was a memory._

_Where was he, if not in Revolutionary times? _

_Hadn't he…hadn't he already declared his independence…?_

_It was hard to think._

XXXXX

"Damn you, fucking useless French bastard!" Arthur growled as Canada dragged France away from the battle, and he saw Russia step in, helping him battle off the wolf, but the wolf only seemed to get further angered by his presence, agitated enough to blindly lunge at Ivan, the Russian nation barely escaping the wrath of the monster altogether.

However, it wasn't that simple. The thing turned on a dime and bit into his shoulder, nearly ripping Ivan in half and surely killing him in one foul bite.

It tossed the Russian to the side, and set its sights back on where England was shooting at his thick hide, damning the fact his guns weren't even working against the damned monster.

He knew that only Alfred's guns would kill the beast, only Alfred could do it- but where was the bastard.

"Alfred! Fuck! Where have you run off to, Jones?" He shouted, having no other way of contacting him now.

XXXXX

"_You're mine." Alfred's voice had been slick with jealousy and possessiveness, driven half-mad by the anti-communist propaganda in his country. _

"_Yours." Arthur had said, his voice husky while Alfred had fucked him raw, crazed blue eyes looking straight into Arthurs, the two stuck in missionary as once again, the words were out of synch than with the Arthur who was arching obediently underneath him. "_**Jones! Fuck! I can't do this!"**

_That wasn't that memory, either. Where was Alfred? This wasn't it. This wasn't this timeline- that was right. This memory was wrong now, wasn't it? _

_It wasn't a memory; it was a fantasy of something that could never be anymore. _

_The question was, if this was a memory, how was he supposed to wake up? If this was a fantasy, what is it a fantasy of?_

XXXXX

"Yao! Get him back!" England said, taking Japan's sword from the place where it had fallen in Japan's fatal fight with the blade monster and simultaneously firing his gun at the wolf, which was pacing around him to try and get a better angle on him, waiting for the moment where Arthur would be unprepared for teeth through his body to slice his skin and break his bones. But until that moment, he was going to fight, dammit!

"Jones! Please, I need your help!_ I'm sorry_!" He was begging now, the other nations falling left and right, humans fleeing the scene as England stood on his last legs, trying to at least stall the monsters path of destruction.

He had to stop him! He had to figure out how to reach him. Alfred! Where are you, where were you then, too? Were you him as well?

The one who never came for England _then_ as well?

XXXXX

_They were in the field, and Arthur was sitting in front of him, crying. "The child…the child…" There was no child in this timeline, Alfred knew. This timeline was the right timeline now. "They said there would be a child! Where is my child?"_

_Alfred stood over him, mirroring his own memories, where Alfred, a young boy, trusting the man before him, saw Arthur crying, and took his hand, choosing him. _

"**I'm sorry!" **_He heard the words that didn't match the period, as he looked upon England's fallen form, the man crying and asking why, why this had happened. _**"I'm sorry, please, Alfred!"**_ Alfred knew it then- the voice the voice that was cutting into the memory with words that weren't supposed to be a part of it. _

_It was England- he was calling to him, begging for him to help him. Even now, England wasn't able to do this sort of thing on his own. He was always a useless idiot, even when he had known Alfred as he once was._

_He was still the boy sitting in the field, except now it wasn't England and France, it was the monster his lover Arthur had become, the England who no longer needed him, and an England that was crying because he had never known the boy who had proven to matter so much to him time and time over. _

_And Alfred knew that he would always choose England, the crying man in the field, ready to give up. _

_He always had, and he always would._

With that, Alfred broke free of the madness that had claimed him.

His eyes opened, their fury cooling suddenly as he regained a semblance of control of himself, and he saw England fighting them both off, Arthur and himself, and he was _losing. _The monstrous version of himself paused and looked at England and Arthur, England clearly almost at the end of his rope. He felt how the child empathized with him, and also knew and _felt_ that this man had rarely ever seen that fairness. France had had so much, what had England had then?

"_You…you used to be so big…England." _

Arthur was losing, and he needed help now. Alfred had a choice to make didn't he?

_He would always choose England, wouldn't he?_

His mind played the phrase he had said that day he had finally broken free of the tyrant on repeat.

Arthur looked at him rather than England, his poison green eyes maddened, the beast confused as to what the monster that was once the man he loved, and still loved, madly and deeply, (**they could be together again, now and forever**, **but** **still** _stop stop stop, you're_ _corrupting him more, you selfish bastard stop stop stop!_) but his face contorted into anger, losing his human appearance and becoming the demon that he had been turned into in the other world, prepared to attack England if the giant wolf of Alfred moved to protect him rather than kill him.

However, Alfred then turned to England, and nodded, his blue eyes unable to cry in this monstrous form as he finally understood his end goal, his final sacrifice to the new world. His last blessing, though it had been disguised as a curse for so long.

He had to mean _nothing_\- not to anyone he had once known, and that would be his salvation. He knew that if Arthur, his Arthur, remained alive, he would still know Alfred as he once was.

So- he had to die, once and for all.

They had to end it here.

And with that, the giant hound turned suddenly, and bit into Arthur Kirkland, his once beloved gasping as the evil dripped off him like acid as he died, melting him, as the man that had been beneath that smiled weakly, gasping as he thanked Alfred for finally letting him go, and he disappeared.

This would be the end! This would be their salvation!

And the new nations- unharmed by suffering- could begin to heal, Alfred could already feeling the air around him burning as he felt the life leaving him and being thrust into the new world all over again.

XXXXX

The giant wolf he had been fighting howled in mourning, while England was left staring at the beast, unable to believe what had happened. One monster- the wolf- had turned on his doppelganger monster, and had destroyed him.

His disbelief faded as he saw the beast rip his own leg open, blood spilling out, and Arthur could only stare while the events pressed on.

The beast, the giant wolf, melted back into Alfred F. Jones, the hunter who had held England at arms distance for so long. And he collapsed.

Arthur raced to his side, asking him what on Earth he had been thinking as he pulled the man onto his lap, only to feel Alfred's cool, dying lips against his, the man having forced him down into a kiss, shutting him up.

"Heh…" Alfred laughed a bit, the sound painful. "I had to…you're useless on your own, Artie…" He paused, before looking at him tiredly. "I'm sorry I never got to know you. I think…after this…you'll know why… I wanted to tell…but…."

"You're a hero." Arthur found himself saying to cut him off, despite himself, the words feeling right on his lips. "You're a hero, Alfred." He squeezed his hand, blue eyes looking into green, seeing them both, one he had loved, and one he had barely known, but Arthur was unaware of that dichotomy for the dying man, simply holding his hand while he saw Alfred- the only one he had ever known- slipping away in front of him.

"Don't worry…now." Alfred gasped, clearly on the edge of death. His grey eyes were blue, the color of the sky. "There…won't be…any other monsters…. not anymore." He smiled at England, and he was clearly seeing someone else. "I'll be with you soon, Artie." The man said, blue eyes sliding shut, his breathing slowing, his face still smiling, relieved and grateful this was all over. "I did it…I saved you…" He breathed out one last breath. "I…. saved…. everyone…."

"Thank you." Arthur said, stealing one more kiss from the man beneath him, and Alfred's entire body slowed down, his wounds leaving his body, revealing him to look healthy-happy even- the man he was holding still smiling enigmatically even as he vanished entirely, leaving Arthur behind forever.

Arthur looked into the sky, and he cried out, railing against the unfairness of it all, clutching at himself in the hopes that Alfred might still be there with him.


	6. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

It had been 20 years since Alfred F. Jones had died, and with him had left all the monsters, the creatures that had plagued them for so long simply vanishing from the earth's surface altogether. There had not been a single attack since the man that was Alfred F. Jones had killed England's doppelganger, and then himself.

What the nations had pieced together from the little they knew of the man was that, somehow, Alfred was a nation from another time, where things had gone horribly wrong. He had made some kind of deal with an omnipotent being, and he had returned to this world to save his friends, or the nations of his time. However, his friends, as Canada had explained, were none other than the monsters that he had been tasked with killing.

England could only figure that the man, Alfred, or America, as it had come to light from Germany's testimony, had needed to kill off Arthur's own monstrous counterpart, and then off himself. He had needed to accept that their deaths were meant to be, and then they could be saved from their continued suffering.

It was a truly terrible fate, one that was unmatched by any other evil fate he could imagine for a boy like Alfred, who, though he had been insufferable at times, had truly desired to save them all.

Arthur had to move on, he supposed, though something about the boy and his relationship to his doppelganger made the nation question what _could _have been between them, had America been there this whole time, or had Alfred survived his doomed quest.

However, much like the original Alfred F. Jones, the new one showed up in time- and with a violent crash into Arthur's life.

"S'cuse me!" A hauntingly familiar American voice had sounded with a bright laugh that was completely unmarred by cynicism, and Arthur whipped around and saw a man riding a motorcycle burst through the crowded streets of New York, natives yelling harshly at the boy, who barely looked 19 or so.

It was none other than Alfred F. Jones, clearly on the run from several cops, the boy bright and so, so happy, so different from the time they had spent together in the brief time they had known each other.

"Get back here!" A policeman yelled and Alfred snickered, before being suddenly thrown off his bike, apparently having the wheel burst by a bullet, and he was thrown before Arthur with an expression of shock on his face, before grinning sheepishly up at the British man, shrugging as he brushed off his injuries, which would have been fatal to any human.

"That'll be enough, officers." Arthur said, commandingly. "I think we'll know what to do with this one."

"What gives you the right to take the kid! He was speeding 30 over!" The officers shouted in their discontent, and England glared.

"Be kinder to your own nation, morons. You're looking at the long-lost persona of the United States of America, look alive, will you?" He grumbled, and Alfred was gaping at him now. "Isn't that right, Mr. Jones?" England said, dryly, and Alfred paled.

"How do you know that?" He asked, still standing on a leg that was bleeding out.

England rolled his eyes. "Oh, belt up- if you weren't you'd have died from that." Arthur gestured, tapping the injury and making Alfred yelp in pain. "Like I said, I'll take him from here, officers."

The police backed off, and Arthur gripped the boy's wrist, leading him into the UN building. "Thanks!" Alfred said, still looking a bit freaked out. "I think…uh…but…how…?" He grinned, nervous.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I'm the representation of England. And I've waited a long time to finally see you like this, Alfred." He said, softly. "Though you probably don't remember, I've waited a long time to meet you again."

Alfred just stared, and fainted, Arthur dutifully caught him with a sigh. "Goodness, you're more of a drama queen now than you were _then_." He said, but simply called for assistance, Matthew paling as a man they had all thought dead was now held up by England, who was smirking in triumph.

"I guess you were right." Francis said as he waltzed up to help Arthur carry him. "The man was too stubborn to die."

Arthur gazed upon a face that was nothing short of cherubic, far more innocent and _happy_ than the man Arthur had known before, and he licked his lips, remembering the feeling of Alfred's powerfully reassuring lips against his own. "I guess I'm grateful for that." He whispered, and he felt the wind around them changing, settling once and for all.


End file.
